Dance Dance Dance
by croquant
Summary: Izaya is determined to ruin Shizuo once and for all, and knows the best way is through his brother. Written for the kinkmeme. noncon, Izaya/Kasuka, Izaya/Shizuo, eventual Shizuo/Kasuka
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Original prompt:**  
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**Shizuo has crossed Izaya one too many times. Izaya is determined to ruin him, but he knows the best way is indirect - through his beloved little brother. Should have non-con and mindfuck, with Izaya finding the tiny cracks in Kasuka's shell and trying to break him down. Bonus points if he delivers the final product direct to Shizuo. Double ****bonus ****points for references to Shizuo/Kasuka brother complex issues.**

Minor edits from the one posted on lj. And this will be the first story in which I can guarantee weekly/even more frequent updates, haha. Please enjoy and review!

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_There are ways of dying that don't end in funerals._

- Haruki Murakami

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Lately Izaya had been feeling out of his game. It had started with a terribly difficult case three months ago, and things had gone down from there, what with disappearing people and assets and a few mystery murders along the way. Nothing he couldn't solve, but during his time in California, a hot and overrated mess of everything American, a freak earthquake had occurred. 8.5 on the Richer scale.

Natural phenomena had always terrified him somewhat, and though he was the farthest thing from religious he'd remembered gritting his teeth under shaky tables and thinking, This is karma. Even some time afterwards he'd taken it as a bad omen. And he was right. A heavy chunk of ceiling had fallen straight on his left leg, shattering his femur and delaying his observations for a while.

After that he'd stayed in an expensive hospital for a few weeks. Despite the fact that the Pacific Ocean was mere miles away no restaurants seemed to have ootoro in stock, and Izaya was forced to subsist on lame fusion meals. Of course he'd made advance preparations in case of emergencies but his streaming video feeds and chat logs were not very useful in this case, which required him to chase tail of a call girl whose name was unknown and only leads were a photograph of her ear and her voicemail message. Izaya rued the day he accepted this bizarre request because it had only brought him trouble.

And now, he had some time to kill before his flight to Japan. Yawning, Izaya flung his fur coat over his shoulder as he walked out of the hospital, the first time after what felt to be many months. Strolling along the path with nothing in particular to do, a poster caught his eyes. A large glossy blowout with an attractive man winking: 'Hanejima Yuuhei and the Vampire Slayer! Out In Theatres July 22'.

Izaya curled his lips as he stopped, examining the man. What was so good about that flea's brother, he didn't understand. Sure, he was a decent actress and Izaya supposed he had the looks. If he were to be honest to himself he knew that his annoyance stemmed from his sisters' obsession. Word was it that Mairu would push him in front of a truck to meet the man. It also had some part to due with his relation to the flea. Izaya huffed and sat down on a bench next to the poster. A bus belched by but Izaya paid it no mind.

Shizuo and him had a tacit agreement – siblings were off limits. No matter how much killing tension was between the two, neither would touch family. But since when did Izaya Orihara play fair anyway, he mused. It wasn't like Izaya actually wanted Shizuo dead, it would only take a click on a keyboard for his body to be found washed up on Tokyo Bay the next morning. Shizuo was special because of how fun he was. It was the most amusing thing next to 4chan to see him filled with rage and unable to do a thing to Izaya. And Shizuo was also a case study of nature versus nurture. Izaya had always wondered at his sibling relationship and how much of Shizuo's personality was determined from Kasuka's. Or the other way around.

He stood up, the threads of a plan coming together in his mind. He'd considered toying with Kasuka many times in the past but his conscience would always give a brief twinge of something – an emotion he couldn't really quantify. But he had been unimaginably bored the past few weeks and he longed to feel the familiar rush of executing a perfectly plotted plan. Craved to be back manipulating people stronger than the average Kidas or Sakis of the world.

It was at these times when he was reminded of his love for humans. Kasuka had a drab, emotionless exterior but Izaya suspected dark things lurking underneath. Perverted fantasies, a suicide wish, secret mental instability… Izaya was the undisputed master at coaxing out the dark side of people.

Anyway, even if Kasuka did turn out to be a little humdrum, Izaya knew all about the deep bond between him and his older brother. And bonds only existed to be exploited. Stock market ones included.

* * *

><p>Whistling a nameless tune, Izaya grinned and skipped up, twirling his coat around before stashing it into his bag. He took out his highly customized and unidentifiable cellphone to search for the nearest theater. The real personality of someone like Kasuka did not show through even during his off hours, so Izaya did not hope to gain any insight on him by watching the movie. But it would be good conversation fodder. Luckily it was only two minutes away and Izaya bought a ticket, merrily skipping to the air conditioned area and sitting in one of the back rows.<p>

Teenage girls quickly filled up the space with incessant chatter and diet sodas. Izaya ignored all of them and soon enough the movie began.

It was average mind numbing fluff. Kasuka played the role of a handsome yuppie teacher who was cheating on his girlfriend. Predictable plot twists ensued and Izaya longed for a cellphone to stamp on. He'd forgotten how utterly boring movies were, especially American ones.

Izaya decided that he had more than enough conversation lubricant so he made to stand up. He brushed off possibly imaginary lint from his coat and was about to walk out when something on the screen caught his attention.

Kasuka was with his illicit lover, stroking her naked back. The cameras zoomed in on her – and one ear peeked out from a fringe of hair. Izaya's widened and he almost stumbled over a chair. He sat back on the chair expectantly and quickly fished out his trusty binoculars, watching intently as the female main character opened the door and gasped in shock. After her departure, the call girl sat up and asked, "What was that all about?"

There was no doubt. She was the woman Izaya had been looking for. He lowered the binoculars and then put them back into his bag. When information searches involved another person, it was customary of him to surround himself with this person's presence, that is, to pin up posters of their faces and to repeat their spoken dialogue on loudspeakers. This was how he familiarized himself with whoever was missing. Granted it was not very orthodox but Izaya was not the average information broker after all.

Izaya didn't bother to hide a giggle as he stood up and left the theatre halfway throughout the movie. He dialed his client's number and was not really surprised to hear he'd already seen 'Vampire Slayer'.

"Thank you so much," the client gushed as Izaya exited the theatre. "It's funny, because I wasn't even going to see the movie, but Yuuhei is an old friend of mine. And I wanted – "

Izaya stopped walking. Now here was a source of potential information. While Izaya could and would sleuth out every recorded fact on Kasuka's childhood, nothing beat someone with prior personal interaction. Knowing the hard cold facts about a person's situation was only half the battle. The other half was much more interpretive. It was about knowing their emotions and reactions to past events, their ideals and motives and their dreams for the future. Tapping into the psyche would require people like the one on the other end of the phone.

"Old friend? I'm curious. I'm also an acquaintance of Kasuka's."

"Ah, so you know his real name! Well, you see, I wasn't exactly his friend, but I knew him back in elementary school."

"Mm. I happen to know him through his brother. But tell me," Izaya smoothly said, "was he just as quiet as a child?"

"Yes, it was so surprising when I saw him in the acting business. To be honest, I had my doubts at first. You know what he's like… so emotionless. But I was blown away, I tell you. People say that Yuuhei's a good actor, but when you know his real personality you see he's not a good actor but a brilliant one."

"Yes, of course. Sometimes I am worried, though. Shizu-chan – his elder brother – can be very violent at times. I think poor Kasuka may have repressed his emotions in order not to provoke Shizu-chan." This was one of the most obvious theories behind Kasuka's personality and he waited for the response while stepping into the airport.

The man said, thoughtfully, "Violent? You're right about that. But I don't think Kasuka was scared of his brother. It was more like, he knew he had to be a stable constant in order to keep his brother from flying off the handle. He probably did it out of love and not fear." This was another one of the other theories.

"That's right. Brotherly love is the best. You know, come to think of it neither have ever mentioned their parents." Izaya knew very well that their parents were divorced and rarely home when they were children. But he wanted to know how obvious this fact was to others.

"Oh, I remember. Their parents were hardly ever around. So it was very much like the two siblings fending for themselves."

"Well, thank you very much. It was nice talking to you but I have a flight to catch."

"No problem. Talking brings back the old days. And I'll wire the remaining money to your account immediately."

"Thanks. Bye bye, now!" Izaya hung up and hummed happily in the terminal, amidst the bustle of tourists. There were so many possible ways of breaking Kasuka, each as equally fun as the last and Izaya could not choose. He pondered this conundrum before deciding the only course of action now would be to finish gathering information and then make his move.

With that in mind he set aside Project Kasuka, as he termed it in his mind, for when he reached Japan. Now he was in the mood for shopping, so he walked away from the tacky gift shops and to somewhere more classy, like Bvlgari. Mmm, silver rings.


	2. Chapter 2

Izaya woke up to the sound of a female announcer. "We are now arriving in Shinjuku, Japan. Current local time is 9:15 AM. Please make sure to bring all your belongings with you and throw away any trash in the receptacles next to you. We hope you had an enjoyable flight."

His body felt refreshed and his mind even more so. Izaya skipped out of the plane with his carry-on, glad to feel no lingering pain from his leg, and walked outside to greet Namie, looking typically bored standing in front of a sleek Mercedes convertible.

"Good morning, Namie-chan! Missed me? Have you got any breakfast?" The woman rolled her eyes and held up a bag from a local patisserie. The two entered the car and drove the short distance to Izaya's apartment, Izaya munching on a pain au chocolat and Namie informing him of recent developments along the way.

"Nothing too big I see. That's good, I've got a new project I'm dying to work on. Tell everyone the great Orihara Izaya is not accepting any new jobs as of now, unless it's from Shiki-san. Got it?"

Izaya could sense Namie's curiousity but she did not ask. "Got it," she replied as they reached the apartment door. Izaya thumbed the fingerprint sensor and spoke clearly, "I am Nakata." The door beeped then granted them entry. Izaya walked into the flat and threw his carry-on and jacket onto the couch, walking towards the computer and swivel chair he loved so much. He booted it up and in the meantime opened a drawer to the side of him.

The drawer was his people database, truly a gargantuan amount of information he'd begun collecting ever since he was a teenager. He kept this information in 26 different external hard drives, with urgent files copied on an internet database. With one hand he took out the 'H' hard drive and with the other typed in his password to enter the computer. If the password was similar but incorrect - entered with two or less different characters, which could account for a typo on Izaya's part - the user would be led to a fake account and Izaya would be alerted by text a photo of whoever had tried to unsuccessfully access his computer. Izaya then would need to restart the computer and log in again.

Izaya logged in without problem and inserted the hard drive, searching for Kasuka. Unfortunately most of the pertinent facts in the file needed to be updated, 'Current Residence', for instance. Kasuka's occupation made it difficult for him to return to the same location over and over. Despite this, tracking a celebrity's current location was so easy nowadays. Izaya quickly Googled 'Yuuhei twitter' and clicked on the first result.

'nerima city WE OUT! staying Ritz-Carlton 4 3 days. service here is MAD good, yo. PCE BITCHES'

Izaya had to laugh at the persona Kasuka's agency had given him. He closed the window and inputted Nerima, Ritz-Carlton into 'Residence' and scanned the rest of the file. Personal contacts, habits, and expenses would be next. Unfortunately, an actors' expenses would be filed in the name of 'business,' and the agency representing Kasuka would buy everything for all its actors and ship it to the agency, making it nigh impossible to determine which items were meant for who. Spycams could be attached discreetly onto clothing as well as hotel furniture, if Izaya knew which room Kasuka was staying at. And finding the email account or phone number of such a high-profile celebrity was a futile task without connections.

Fortunately Izaya did have connections. He searched through the employees of KHS Actor's Agency through an Excel spreadsheet containing blackmail material in the entertainment industry and the CFO was a direct match.

One phone call afterward, a blubbering CFO and Izaya's inbox now contained an unread email containing half a dozen attachments with all the necessary information. He smirked. Blackmail was crude and not really Izaya's style but its usefulness could not be overrated.

The cell number and email were copied quickly. Kasuka would be staying in the Ritz-Carlton for two nights, and Izaya intended to watch his movements. He dialed up the hotel, asking to speak with the manager. Posing as a Mr. Kiseki he explained that he was the agency coordinator for Yuuhei Hanejima, who attempted suicide two weeks ago and was now on suicide watch. He stifled a giggle at the man's astonished reaction and asked for some kind of video device to be attached discreetly in his room, ending his request with "His mental stability is not very strong right now so it's really for the best."

After the successful hotel infiltration Izaya hung up and moved on to less time-sensitive issues. In a matter of seconds he pulled up Kasuka's personal email account, thanks to having an alias as a Google technician on the side. Over 6000 unread messages in the inbox, mostly Twitter replies and Facebook requests. Kasuka only read and replied to business issues. Izaya then went to the contacts already having a clear idea of what would be there. Again, every single contact was business-related, except 'Brother.'

Izaya searched all the emails from 'Brother.' There were only two from the past two years, sent from Shizuo. Both read the same "Happy birthday, Kasuka."

Kasuka had not responded to either.

Expenses were next, neatly subdivided into categories like 'Food', 'Clothing', 'Hygiene', and 'Transport'. Thanks to the detailed cataloguing Izaya was able to find minute details such as Kasuka's preference for whole milk and salmon, and what type of shampoo he used to brands of sneakers. However many personal choices were bound to be made for Kasuka by the agency, in which case it told nothing about his own personality.

He continued to scroll down, skimming through and stopped at 'Entertainment', overcome with a desire to rub his hands together like a villain from an 80's movie. This category would surpass all others in usefulness. He grinned, continuing to scroll down… and nearly fell out of his chair.

Quickly Izaya propped himself back up, nevermind Namie's disturbed glance. He stared at the faintly blue computer, surprised and incredibly amused. Izaya felt a laugh bubbling from the back of his throat.

It would seem that Kasuka was secretly some kind of sex fiend, for nearly every night he was graced with 'feminine services'.

Izaya leaned forward with a grin so wide it stretched from ear to ear. This was good.

'Feminine services' were then categorized with different names. One name showed up with startling frequency. It was 'Kiki'. Other names included 'June' and 'Mei'. Basic short first names that didn't really reveal anything.

Something about this situation rang a bell with Izaya. He frowned, trying to think of what exactly it was, but before he was able to the live video feed suddenly popped up, diverting Izaya's attention.

It had been strategically placed from the corner of the room. Izaya could see the maid who put it there, now hurrying out the room, obviously relieved the task was over.

Izaya paused for a second to look up at Namie. "Namie-chan, get me some ootoro. I've been craving it since I got back to Japan but I have something critical to attend to now. Make it quick."

He could tell she was about to ask but then thought better of it, obviously thinking she wouldn't take the bait. Izaya giggled inwardly at this response. Outwardly he remained serious and said, "What are you waiting for?"

She made a "hmph" sound and snatched her handbag, exiting the building.

Izaya then returned to the video. There was only one small suitcase. A neat stack of folded clothing were arranged on a chair. One computer was on the desk, untouched. Izaya quickly pulled up Kasuka's schedule for today, written by his manager: '11:00, brunch at Da'Silvana. 1:00, fan signings at Kinokuniya. 2:00 – 4:00, meeting to discuss possible role as seiyuu. 4:00 – 6:00, English lessons. 6:00 – 7:00, dinner back at Ritz. 7:00+ free time'.

That meant the tape would probably only be useful during the nighttime. Izaya hummed and tapped a long finger to his chin. His hypothesis was formed and now he put the 'Expenses' and 'Schedule' windows side by side. As expected, days with acting lacked sex, and days with sex lacked acting.

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><p>Izaya stood just as the doortone buzzed. He pressed the buzzer and greeted Namie as well as his food excitedly.<p>

"Namie-chan, I have a job for you," Izaya said he placed the takeout box on his desk and lifted the lid. "Buy out the apartment next door and completely soundproof all the walls. Demolish the kitchen section, basically make it into an entirely bare cell." Izaya began his daily ritual of eating ootoro and he continued his orders in between each swallow. "Install a time-dependent lock on the bathroom door."

He closed his eyes at the smooth texture and unctuous taste. "Paint the walls white and install a TV. In utmost secrecy, of course, as are most of our clandestine affairs."

"What type?" Namie's voice betrayed her blank face as she wrote this down on a pad.

"Of TV? Doesn't matter. Ah, this will be so fun! So fun! So fun!" Izaya cackled with uninhibited delight, then popped another sushi roll into his mouth.

"Do I want to know?" The assistant tore off the sheet of paper with Izaya's instructions and opened her laptop, presumably contacting the specific contractors needed for his strange assignment.

Izaya did not look up as he began explaining, glee evident in his voice. "It's a well known fact that mammals have an internal clock, known as a circadian rhythm. This rhythm dictates an individual's sleepiness and is cued by external cues called as zeitgebers, the strongest one being light. When one takes away such cues – for example, if one is locked in a dark room with no one else – time becomes meaningless."

Izaya stood up, having already finished the entire box, and paced over to the chess board, picking up a shogi piece.

"The TV that I told you to install will broadcast an entirely fake stream of information that Kasuka must take as 'real-time'. I can choose to speed up or slow down time. If so, the time incongruency will be noticed, whether at a conscious or subconscious level, and after other such incongruencies I will introduce, he will be forced to conclude that he can no longer trust his senses."

"A modern day Descartes, you are."

Izaya smiled indulgently. "After that point the TV will become a much more powerful presence. It will be simultaneously the only reliable source of information and comfort to him. It does not only become the clock and calendar, but also the friend, church, home. Once the role of the TV has been established in his mind, whatever it broadcasts will leave a deeper impact on Kasuka. Potentially pleasing and potentially devastating." Izaya flipped the piece and examined its sides.

Namie grunted. "Kasuka Heiwajima? I am guessing this is all for Shizuo's benefit."

Izaya nodded eagerly, picking up a couple other random chess pieces and beginning to juggle them with ease. "Indeed. Kasuka is becoming my pet project."

"But that's not all, is it?"

"Ah, dear Namie-chan knows me so well. I suppose you know what Kasuka is like. A practical robot when not acting. He has been repressing his feelings since youth after learning of the disastrous consequences of unrestrained emotions. Acting, and possibly sex as well, is his outlet. Kasuka will most definitely feel a myriad of emotions, namely anger and resentment once kidnapped and locked in a cell. What will happen then?

Years of suppressing emotion will war with a strong desire to express emotion. And he will not be able to slip under the guise of a fictional character this time to vent his frustrations. Nor will he have his beloved fucktoys."

Izaya abruptly stopped juggling. The pieces clattered loudly on the wooden floor. He walked back to his desk, not bothering to pick them up. "I wonder what true hatred looks like on his face? I guess I'll find out after all."

Namie watched the informant sigh happily and fold his hands into a steeple, staring at the empty hotel room on the computer screen. He unfolded his fingers and flexed them experimentally, then spun around in his swivel chair a few times, finally meeting Namie's expectant gaze with an equally leveled one.

"Yes, there is a final aspect of Kasuka's that interests me. The sibling dynamic between him and Shizuo. Clearly Kasuka's actions are a result for his affection for Shizuo, yet I believe there might be some deep bitterness towards Shizu-chan for making him turn out this way. A veritable cocktail of resentment, pent up anger, and dare I say, sexual interest."


	3. Chapter 3

Thank you **blackwingsgreeneyes**, **Dextris**, and **letters** for reviewing! :)

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><p>Namie suddenly looked much more interested. "Incest?" she asked with a single tweezed eyebrow raised.<p>

"For the wincest!" Izaya chuckled at Namie's reaction. "Something you would approve for sure. It could just be that Kasuka naturally has a raging libido. It could also be repressed sexual attraction to someone. Of course I am going to assume that is Shizu-chan," Izaya wrinkled his nose, "although that man has all the sex appeal of a rock."

A sudden ping alerted Izaya to a new email. The expenses and schedule lists had been updated with information from today and some for next week as well. Izaya quickly opened the attachments, running his eyes over the new changes. He stopped at the 'Entertainment' section. The woman named Kiki would apparently be coming both tonight and tomorrow.

Most people would have viewed this as a setback. Already, kidnapping in a high security level area like Ritz-Carlton would require extra precautions. This would be coupled with the fact that the victim was a famous celebrity, and the incentive for finding clues to his disappearance would be much higher. Adding in a potential witness was disastrous.

But Izaya was nothing but flexible. These challenges upped the ante and made Izaya even more excited. He would create opportunities out of what seemed to be setbacks. And Kiki could play a big role in damaging Kasuka's psyche.

He drummed his fingers on the table, mentally ticking through possible courses of action. The most critical part of the operation would be hacking into the live video feed, which was actually so simple Izaya felt embarrassed. IP-based video cameras had glaringly obvious flaws, namely that one could replace the camera with any physical object. The surveillance software would not even register that the static came from another device. After that he could divert security's attention with a false camera feed while someone transported Kasuka's body to a vehicle.

He quickly accessed the hotel network, following the email from the manager, scanning the names of clients currently registered online. He did not recognize any of them. So he did not have any inside men currently in Ritz-Carlton. But that could be easily fixed. The informant pressed a number on his phone and waited for the other person to pick up.

"Shiki-san? Hello… I've been good… Heh. That last job was nothing.

Alright, alright. I need you to do me a favor. I have some business in Nerima City. I'd like to borrow one of your men for a couple days, starting tomorrow.

Huh? I can't guarantee that. Hmm, could it be that you're gaining a sense of morality? Now that can't do…

Nothing hard. If you must know, it's disabling a few cameras, transporting a body. If you want to know more, you'll have to watch the news for the next couple of weeks.

Well, I was hoping you'd help me with that. Do you happen to own any kind of building in the downtown area?

A warehouse, yes, perfect. And of course a vehicle is also necessary.

I know, I know. Well, thanks so much. I'll email you the details tonight. Bye then!"

Izaya flicked his cellphone to send it spinning on the chrome desk. He said lightly, "Namie? I trust you just heard Shiki-san and me."

"Don't tell me I'm doing the dirty work for you."

The comment earned her a giggle. "This is an important job. You'll be staying in Ritz-Carlton for about four days, beginning tonight."

"With a member of the Awakusu? Disgusting."

"Nothing you can't handle, plus he will only be with you a day at the most. I will brief you on the details once you are there." Izaya looked up, smirking. "Well?"

As expected she groused but reluctantly consented. After all, Namie liked to think otherwise but she was really Izaya's servant and not assistant, and she had only herself to blame for her freakish obsession with Seiji.

Izaya checked the time. Still another couple of hours before Kasuka would come back. He would still have time to infect some up and coming corporations with encrypted malware sent in the form of business emails, his true specialty. After that he could troll people on that American blogging site hipsters loved so much. He smiled. His day was turning out so well he had already forgotten the entire California debacle.

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><p>Izaya was playing Internet chess when he heard the door open. Automatically he looked up, and then realized the sound had come from his computer. Usually he played five simultaneous games at once for a challenge but this "l_lamperouge" was a genius. So caught up in the match, he'd completely forgotten his master plan for Kasuka. With a regretful smile he quickly minimized his browser and focused on the feed. It was slightly grainy but Izaya could clearly see Kasuka entering with Kiki. Kiki apparently had no formal job experience for corporations, and besides the one minor role she'd played in 'Vampire Slayer' she had not acted in any other movie.<p>

As she closed the door Kasuka immediately pinned her down and began kissing her heatedly, threading his hands through his hair. Izaya was quite impressed. The kissing scene looked exactly like something out of his movies. He could not make out many further details, however.

The woman moaned and her hands crept below Kasuka's jeans and fisted the length underneath. The location of the camera made it hard to tell, but judging from Kasuka's wanton face she must have been doing something right.

Kasuka broke apart first and motioned for her to get into the bed, quickly unbuttoning his shirt. Izaya could see the silhouette of a toned abdomen, before Kiki, who was suddenly half naked, jumped onto Kasuka and bit his nipple.

Kasuka closed his eyes and sighed almost inaudibly. With one hand he unbuckled his belt, and with another he fondled Kiki's breasts. Kiki's tongue lapped at Kasuka's belly button before traveling lower, arching her back like a cat.

At this point the informant switched windows. Being as straight as a circle he felt no interest in watching the two fuck. The sex seemed straightforward and if it didn't tell anything about their personalities, he was not interested.

But after a couple of minutes, besides the usual girly moans, he heard faint metallic clinks. Curious, Izaya reopened the video stream.

Kasuka was holding handcuffs and fingering now fully naked Kiki fiercely at the same time, his fingers glistening as they pumped back and forth. Izaya had no idea where he'd gotten the handcuffs but they looked heavy and almost like the real thing. With speed that could only come with experience, Kasuka roughly cuffed both of Kiki's slender hands together to the bedpost, forcing her arms upwards while her lower body lay on the mattress.

Kasuka then proceeded to bring out actual ropes from his travel bag. Izaya was surprised. Kiki would probably be likened to a flower, her body was so obviously frail and delicate. A few bruises were already forming on her hips and neck. The actor untangled some knots and picked up his discarded belt from earlier. A black leather Armani belt, he first stroked Kiki's spine with the metal buckle. She convulsed and strained against the cuffs, in anticipation for what would be next. Kasuka then raised his arm and whipped Kiki from behind with surprising force, earning a startled "Ahh," from the woman.

It was at this moment that Izaya first noticed any true resemblance between Kasuka and Shizuo. His face almost mirrored Shizuo's enraged expression, but mixed with equal parts lust. These amber eyes darkened a shade deeper, narrowed, behind blue sunglasses. Wet lips parted and a tanned visage, with a slight flush…

Izaya blinked then refocused on the scene before him.

The belt had been thrown on the bed and now Kasuka was entering her from behind. He started at a slow pace but after a few thrusts began pounding into her ruthlessly. Kiki screamed but Kasuka did not make so much a whimper as he rode her, hands grabbing her hips.

Izaya could only tell when Kasuka came because he threw his head back and his body shook a little. A dribble of semen leaked out of Kiki's ass. It seemed dark – as Izaya peered closer he realized it was mixed with blood.

Heavy gasping was the only sound that could be heard in the aftermath. After a couple of minutes, Kasuka untied Kiki's hands with a lock produced seemingly out of nowhere. Relief seemed to wash over her face and was suddenly punctuated with surprise as Kasuka stuffed her mouth with a tie.

He expertly slammed her into a wall. Kiki's legs wrapped around his and she ground herself into him, apparently used to Kasuka's behavior. The actor desisted however and instead bent down to pick up ropes. Already he was erect as he wrapped the rope around Kiki's arms and torso. Kasuka entered her easily and continued binding various parts of her with rope.

'_If I was a rich girl, nanananananananananana…_'

Gwen Stefani suddenly interrupted. Izaya's eyes narrowed at the disturbance and he snatched his cellphone, turning it off forcefully before dropping it on the floor. Masaomi always called at the least opportune times.

He looked back up to the video feed. Somehow in these seconds the rope had been looped around Kiki's neck in what looked to be an almost threatening manner. Kiki's face remained composed, even as Kasuka tugged the ends tighter, with a transfixed face. Kasuka groaned, for the first time, and he thrusted into her as he tugged tighter… tighter…

Suddenly, as if being woken from a trance Kasuka's eyes minutely widened. He immediately let loose of the rope and it draped across her chafed neck like a scarf. Stepping back, Kasuka wore a perfect expression of shock as he stared at his hands, like they had moved by their own volition. About a minute passed and Kiki did not look surprised as Kasuka slowly raised a thumb and caressed her neck gently, brushing away stray hair. Even from here Izaya could see Kasuka's hand trembling slightly. Kiki curled her hand around his and rested her head on his shoulder.

Even though Kasuka did not possess an ounce of Shizuo's insane strength, he seemed he was just as susceptible to fall into fits of blind passion. Then Kasuka kissed the top of Kiki's head as if in apology. Through Izaya's mind flashed the most uncanny resemblance, of Kida kissing the top of Saki's head. The dynamic was greatly altered but in both relationships it seemed, the female longed to please her lover, however discontent he might be.

Like thunder a brilliant idea struck upon Izaya, inspired by the image of the two young lovebirds. It was positively criminal and if played right could shatter Kasuka into pieces so broken they would never fit back together.

The informant threw his head back and laughed with glee, mind giddy with joy even as he fleshed out an elaborate plan for tomorrow. Izaya did not need to watch any more of Kasuka's interactions, he had all the information about the man he needed. Turning off his monitor, he leapt out of his chair, almost knocking it down and grabbed his chessboard from an adjacent table. Then Izaya pushed opened the window behind him.

From here he was granted a dazzling nighttime panorama. A Baroque scene of unending skyscrapers against sharp black met his eyes but he ignored the view completely. Instead he chose tilt his neck downward, focusing on the little figures on sidewalks below him. A line of cars waited at a traffic light. With a single hand Izaya brought his chess board up and swept away all the pieces, following their descent even as they disappeared as tiny dots.

Izaya walked back to his chair thoughtfully. This was what he lived for. Everyone knew he liked to unlock the dark, twisted secrets in other hearts, to examine the human psyche in the most unexpected places. But viewing did not satisfy him half as much as setting up dominos to crush dreams, futures, lives. Like obedient wind-up toys, once provoked humans would all go in a predictable direction. And it was Izaya's job to make sure that direction would lead to inevitable downfall.

Kasuka had been close to choking Kiki to death then. And tomorrow Izaya was bidding on the same brush with death.


	4. Chapter 4

Thank you for your support **Dextris**, **Keryous Seastryder**, **werewolf33**, and **blackwingsgreeneyes**! Every review encourages me to write more ^_^

ALSO. I didn't mention it earlier but this whole kidnapping thing reeks of Oldboy (the lines about the TV were practically lifted from the script). Must give credit where credit is due. And Kasuka's psychological descent was inspired by a fantastic NaruSasu fic: words without thought never to heaven go, by gattypedia. I strongly recommend it though you may end up in tears at the end: gattypedia DOT livejournal DOT com/6365 DOT html

Finally, song mentioned is The Ebay Song by Weird Al Yankovic: youtube DOT com/watch?v=UW9bHDy5khQ. Heehee.

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><p>Morning silently dawned in Shinjuku, but in a certain apartment an informant was already up and about, singing badly in the shower.<p>

"Got Paypal or Visa, whatever will please you," he pressed his fingers in crop circles on his scalp, lathering his hair with conditioner. Letting water run over his hands he then squinted to see his soap options.

"As long as I've got… the douuuuuuugh!" His voice flew high over the correct note and entered the realm of screechy falsetto. Izaya hummed the rest and reached out a hand. Though a casual observer would not know it, each scent had a corresponding mood. And today was most definitely a White Citrus day.

He poured some of the gel into his right palm and reveled in the refreshing, fruity fragrance. Today was a day of both beginnings and ends, his diabolical plan would be set into motion, while Kasuka's everyday life would stop tonight. Being the great Izaya that he was, all variables had been accounted for accordingly. He had a plan B, a plan C, a plan D and even a plan N, Namie's idea.

There was a single kink he still had not quite figured out. It was the damn brute. Shizuo would be desperate for information once Kasuka's disappearance had been leaked to the media. How could Izaya let such a golden opportunity slip through his fingers? The blond would be right where Izaya had wanted him to be for years: in a position in which he needed Izaya. He wanted to exploit it to its full potential.

His hand, slick with foam, trailed down his abdomen to his cock and Izaya gave it one long leisurely pump. He'd be lying if he didn't admit their fights turned him on, bad. They were so raw, visceral, primal. Shizuo's strength was simply out of this world, a level of supernatural bordering on demons and dullahans. And the anomaly was in a human, which made it even better. Except…

Izaya groaned, a mix of pleasure and annoyance. He would not waste his time musing over how irritating that protozoan was. Shizuo had nothing to offer but his body and Izaya planned to take full advantage of the fact. He ran a lithe finger down his backside and slowly inserted it in, just up to the first knuckle.

Concocting a lie that would satisfy Shizuo was easy. But it would be at odds with the grand finale he had planned, which included presenting the finished product to Shizuo. He mulled over this conundrum while simultaneously stroking his length and stretching himself out. He added another couple of fingers, gasping sharply when he found his prostate. Izaya had to plan his words carefully, he knew at times the blond showed surprising insight and it would not do at all for Shizuo to see through him.

"Mm… Shizu-chan," the informant half moaned as he rocked himself against his fingers, imagining a warm hard body pressed behind him, lips kissing along his neck. He angled in deeper, letting out a cry as various fantasies played out through his mind. Most notably he was thinking of how he would make Shizuo beg for the whereabouts of Kasuka. Force him on his knees to envelop his cock in his mouth, those amber eyes burning with hatred and lust…

He was now rutting frantically against cold marble, the sweet friction making his nerve endings tingle pleasantly. "Nnngh – ahh, faster!" He thrust his fingers in and pleasure overtook him as he came hard, splattering seed on his stomach and also some on the wall. Izaya sighed in post-orgasmic bliss and removed the showerhead, cleaning himself off and then washing the wall.

Wrapped in a towel Izaya stepped out of the bathroom. "Good morning, Namie!" he called out, then remembered she was currently in Nerima City. Padding to his computer, he logged on and pulled up some state of the art video editing software, news and sound clips and the many photos he had of Hanejima Yuuhei. It was time to create the false broadcast. Izaya's only regret was that by the time Kasuka was on the news, it would be too late to use these videos himself.

* * *

><p>Ten hours and many breaks later the 'news' feed was completed. In a stroke of brilliance Izaya had also taken recorded calls from his cellphone to create an 'interview' with his former client, Kasuka's childhood acquaintance. He had enjoyed creating the more mundane incidents with news from five years back, and some unrelated entertainment such as music videos by unknown artists. But the real entertainment would be watching Kasuka through the camera buried in the innocuous-seeming SAMSUNG logo of the TV in the apartment next door.<p>

Speaking of which, Izaya turned on the live video feed from Ritz-Carlton. It began with static but slowly evened out. As according to schedule, Kasuka was not there yet but would arrive in another ten minutes. Kiki would come and they would be presented with a package from 'the agency,' leather bonds and a ball gag. Apparently these boxes were common and Izaya giggled at that.

The package contained another, invisible gift – a special compound similar to valium, formulated by his assistant. It was sleeping gas that also had a 97% chance of blanking out memory.

Suddenly the doorbell rang. It was probably his present to the lovers. It rang another time and Izaya could faintly hear a voice: "Hello? I've got a package for Mr. Yuuhei." A final knock, and then retreating footsteps.

A few minutes later cued a soft click; the door opened and this time it was Kasuka, Kiki following closely behind. The actor seemed to have not noticed her presence yet and was now moving expressionlessly to his bed to open the package. Before he could do so, though, Kiki made herself known by softly nibbling on his ear.

Izaya watched Kasuka's body stiffen, then turn around, only relaxing once he recognized the female behind him. Kiki quickly turned to close the door and as expected the two immediately made for the bed.

The informant grabbed his cellphone, eyes not leaving the screen, and pressed '2' on speed dial.

"Namie-chan. It is time for plan A. Inform Noboru." Noboru was Shiki's grunt assigned to help Namie on this task.

"Kay." The dial tone sounded and Izaya closed his phone, satisfied. They had tore open the box and the effects would take place immediately. He watched Kiki first sag down mid-kiss, her arms going limp then frame crumpling on top of Kasuka, who had his hands inside her thong. He also followed suit, eyes drooping and finally slumping over.

Suddenly the hotel door opened once again, and this time it was Namie and Noboru, both wearing gloves and with large suitcases. The lovers' position was comical, and judging by Namie's raised eyebrows she also thought so.

The two quickly unzipped the suitcases, filled with bubble wrap and duct tape. Namie bound and gagged both of them, then took out a penknife to cut into Kiki's upper arms, letting the blood stain the sheets and Kasuka's shirt as per instructions. Noboru stuffed their bodies in and Izaya almost winced at the awkward contortions the lovers went through.

Finally the two left stealthily, Namie hanging the 'DO NOT DISTURB' sign on the door before locking it. The cameras in that particular hall had already been disabled, but here they needed to be careful.

It was time for Izaya to prepare his diversion. Quickly he inputted visuals of three cars being simultaneously hijacked in the upper west side of the parking lot to the camera feeds, which, as he'd suspected, had minimal security. The scene was from some drama and it looked extraordinarily realistic. Noboru would now take both suitcases down to a vehicle parked a block away, while Namie would continue to stay in the hotel for a couple more days.

It was done. They would still need to take pictures of Kiki and transport the bodies to Shinjuku. But for all purposes and intents the kidnapping had already been finished.

A familiar sensation washed through Izaya. It was twin gratification and pride at a plan well executed. He allowed himself a brief moment to revel in it. Getting out of his chair he went to the kitchen, reaching for a high shelf and taking out a thin bottle of champagne. With a graceful flip he landed back on the floor and ran to the TV, inserting a well-used disc into a slot. He pressed 'Play' eagerly and flopped down on the couch, preparing to laugh himself silly. The informant would celebrate this commencement in style: with alcohol and Oprah reruns.

A stray thought flitted through his mind before the opening sequence began.

_I wonder when Kasuka will wake up_.

* * *

><p>Kasuka awoke in an unfamiliar bed. He lay there, processing this development, then re-processed it and his eyes flew open.<p>

He had no idea where he was.

Quietly he sat up, wincing as he did so. His whole body felt sore, especially his left shoulder, which ached unnaturally. Kasuka assessed the situation. Fragments of the last day rushed back with no especial clarity. He'd done fan signings, practiced voice acting, returned to the hotel to meet Kiki. Kiki. Something rang in his mind but try as he might he could not pin down what exactly it was. The last moment he remembered was with Kiki, kissing her in bed and…

The rest was entirely blacked out, like a deleted still frame in the sequence of his life. And now he had been kidnapped.

He was unnerved but blocked out that emotion. If anything, now was the most important time to keep a calm grip on things. He could only rely on reasoning now.

A faint pang from his stomach told him he hadn't eaten, but for how long he had no idea. His captors would have to come in soon to feed him. Kasuka looked around for the first time, ignoring the crick in his neck. The walls were entirely white. A naked light bulb hung in the center of the ceiling, its light harsh and too strong on the eyes. A small metal toilet with a drippy faucet lay in the corner, and a largish TV had been installed across from him. Judging by that, his captors were relatively wealthy, as it was an expensive Samsung model. They had probably also schemed kidnappings before if they had the means to procure a cell like this.

His gaze landed impassively on a plastic chair in front of him. Like almost everything else in the room it was white. Kasuka began to feel a little suffocated by the monochrome scheme, but he stood up anyway and sat down on it. Nothing happened.

Of course not, he thought. Hesitantly he ran his fingers along the underside of the chair. It was bumpy and he could feel gouge marks left by nails, the crescent shapes sharp and smiling. Who else had been in this cell?

The thought was not a happy one and Kasuka quickly asked himself another question, telling himself that the past of the cell had nothing to do with his current situation.

What were the motives? Learning them could aid in bargaining his captors to release. Ransom money, his mind instantly supplied. He had heard tales of famous celebrities being held for ridiculous sums but it had never occurred in Japan. Or it could be a personal grudge against him. A crazed fan, even, wishing to keep him here.

His hand had trailed down almost unconsciously to his shirt, tugging at it. He trailed his fingers along the hem, then looked down and started.

It was covered in blood. Dried, brown blood crusted the originally white shirt in a haphazard pattern, fanning out almost like a butterfly.

A pang of worry jolted through him for the first time. The actor closed his eyes for a moment, grounding himself, then stood up and examined his body. There were a few nicks here and there but no long gashes that would result in this. He lifted the shirt and looked underneath. His abdomen was completely unwounded.

Consciously he lowered his heart rate. Someone else's blood was on him. For now he was sure of that. But whose? How?

Suddenly it clicked. His temple began to pound as he put two and two together. It could not be Kiki's. It had to be from his captor's. Most likely Kasuka had resisted and his captors had used some kind of memory suppressant on him. Because he would never hurt Kiki. It just did not make sense. It was completely impossible.

But he did not have any evidence to prove it otherwise. With growing terror he closely reexamined his memory of that night. He came up with nothing. He didn't feel as though he had been in a fight – and more importantly there weren't even any visible injuries on his body that would have resulted from conflict. Nothing to prove… or disprove his conclusion.

He had to know. Anxiety, an emotion he hadn't felt in years, welled up deep inside him and thoroughly knotted his stomach. Kasuka didn't have any strong feelings for Kiki. It was the principle of the matter with bothered him. He had spent his life trying to repress his DNA and the unhealthy influence of his brother; fate would be too cruel to let his efforts go to naught.

Shizuo had told him often in high school how when violence overtook him: a stealthy shadow that left no traces behind but carnage. But Kasuka had never experienced such a shadow himself.

A cold foreboding settled on his shoulders like frost and Kasuka dusted it off. He would be okay. It was okay. He breathed and his features rearranged themselves to a mask of composure. He stood, eyes searching for a remote to switch on the TV. Finding none, he dropped on all fours and crawled underneath the bed. Ignoring the dusty smell he grasped unfoundedly in the dark, heart loosening a little when he finally found the smooth plastic device. The brunet seized the controller and sat up a little too fast, bumping his head against the bed frame, before pressing the power button.

It was him. He was on the screen.

Suddenly an immense urge to simply shut the TV off and go to sleep came over him. Kasuka wanted nothing more but to wake up and find this was all a horrible nightmare. In all his life he had never not been in control of his surroundings. It frightened him but he knew it was not the real reason he was so scared right now. He did not want to know the truth. If, in a fit of rage or passion, he had hurt someone – or worse –

Nausea ran over him at the thought. He could never live with himself. At the same time he couldn't bear knowing.

His index finger hovered over the remote, unsure of whether or not to press power. Before he could make a decision a voice broke through his thoughts.

Kasuka's head jerked up. On the screen was a vaguely familiar face and voice. For a second he couldn't place it, then he remembered. The man was an acquaintance from his elementary school days. Kasuka slowly stood up from the floor.

"…It was so surprising when I saw the news. To be honest, I had my doubts at first. You know what he's like… nice, quiet. Violent? His brother, maybe, but I've never seen Yuuhei flying off the handle."

"But when I saw the news I was blown away, I tell you." The man shook his head. "It's funny, because I wanted to see the movie, but then the murder was confirmed and, well, I couldn't."

Something iron and leaden pierced through Kasuka. His face did not change but his lips turned white and his knees gave way, like he'd been punched in the gut. The chair tipped over forcefully and he staggered to the floor, hands shaking. The TV droned on but the words were worlds away.

Mutely he raised his fingers, willing them to still._ I am an actor_, he told himself. Their twitching gradually ceased but they still looked strange. Too thin, tiny monsters with minds of their own. He stared at them. His palms stung as though he'd shoved them through ice.

Numbly he sank into the bed, blanket pooled around his feet. Some innocuous pop song was now on but the brunet didn't even notice. Gradually Kasuka became aware of a faint clacking noise; it was his teeth chattering. Words coalesced in his mouth and dropped out before he even realized it:

"See that guy? That's me. Hello sugar plum, Daddy's home now. Don't touch that box! I never thought I could do that."

Meaningless lines that did not change anything. Nothing he did now mattered.

Yet he kept reciting random dialogues as they appeared in his head. His voice was low and his cheeks felt slightly itchy. Kasuka reached up with his forefinger and traced a damp trail of tears down to his chin.

This terrible feeling of emptiness was unlike anything he'd ever experienced before. It spread from his chest to his toes, his cuticles, the roots of his hair. He felt entirely vacant, drained of life and emotion, an empty shell whose soul had abandoned him. Sheer desolation pricked at his skin like needles. Lying in a cramped fetal position, the actor continued talking to the ceiling. There was nobody to hear him. Nobody…

Suddenly weariness seized him. Every event in this very short day had tired him out successively. He needed sleep and almost immediately after this thought, his eyelids closed of their own volition, and Kasuka toppled into restless slumber.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Thank you **Dextris**, **Keryous Seastryder**, and **jen-jen713** for reviewing! :) Chapter warning: potentially triggering scene begins.

* * *

><p>What he did not know was that yesterday was a brief period of shock, a respite, a simple prelude that could not possibly prepare him for what was next.<p>

The pain. _God_, the pain, pain that obviated his senses and numbed his mind like the strongest vodka. Yesterday, he'd felt nothing, a monochrome expanse of space, hollowing him out until Kasuka thought he might not feel anything ever again. Today Kasuka made to sit up, but before he could push himself out a brutal onslaught of sensations assaulted him, shredding his innards apart. His mouth formed a silent 'o' and he slumped back on the mattress, breathing harshly, pupils dilated.

Short fiery blasts of guilt, heat that made his toes curl and veins throb. Long white flashes of regret which tore into his eyes, almost like prophetic visions until he could only see white and he couldn't tell if he was closing his eyes or not. And a cruel, unstoppable hatred directed straight at himself, furiously scraping away the densest layers of his heart and letting them shrivel up like autumn leaves. Kasuka felt hot, then cold, so cold and then he vomited out the side of his bed, a thin trickle of bile. His throat was sore and he couldn't move his aching tongue properly. A putrid taste stayed in his mouth but he couldn't summon the energy to move to the faucet.

He had no idea how long the searing pain had lasted until he was suddenly and fully aware that his mind was clearer, the emotion abated almost as if it had never been there. Blinking, he registered a dull continuum of grief, but like white noise it was easy to get used to.

Sometime during the attack, or fit, food had arrived. It was a simple bowl of cereal, milk and fruit on the side. Staring at it, Kasuka wondered what to do, before grimacing and heading towards the sink. He rolled out of bed and looked for a toothbrush. There was none so he simply cupped the water and gurgled to spit it out again, rinsing his mouth thoroughly.

On his way back to the bed he looked down and did a double take. The vomit was completely washed off, the floor immaculate. Impossible - it would mean that a person had entered silently, cleaned it and left in the span of less than a minute. Had it been a hallucination? Kasuka stared but the floor gave him no answer.

He blinked and sat down Indian style, taking up the remote, turning the TV on but not really looking at it. A buzz, then the familiar lull of rapid-fire, unaccented Japanese in the background. The brunet pulled the tray closer, picking up the plastic cup first. The milk, though bland, was cold and comforting. He finished it all in one swig and set aside the cup. Now that he'd given thought to it, a vague hunger made itself known from Kasuka's stomach. He was just about to raise the spoon to his lips when a thought occurred to him. What did he think he was doing?

He didn't deserve to live. He was a murderer. He'd taken someone else's life and had been too cowardly to even remember. And why? For his own pleasure. Now he was eating and listening to television as if nothing at all had happened. Kasuka shivered in disgust. He'd processed the events of the last twenty four hours and this was his reaction? To pretend they'd never happened?

The spoon was still in his hand and he deftly swiveled it over so he could look at his reflection in the back. Kasuka stared into the silver, a distorted version of his face stared back. His eyes traced over the curves of his visage, unbidden, he was detecting traces of his older brother within him.

Thinking about Shizuo opened a whole other can of worms, one that Kasuka was not ready to face now and maybe not ever. He knew perfectly well he'd been running from his conflicting emotions for the older man for a decade now. But his feelings were so impossibly complicated, twisted and knotted into one another until he couldn't distinguish them apart.

He peered at the spoon once again. Most people didn't make the connection between the two because Kasuka's sleepy, placid expression was so at odds with Shizuo's aggressive scowl. Yet their irises the exact same shade of amber. Kasuka's chin was slightly pointier and his hair forever obedient. Shizuo's more square jaw lent him a more assertive face, and his blond mane was prone to disheveling during his frequent fights.

Kasuka breathed.

Without hesitation he jabbed the spoon towards his eye, ready to gouge it out, but wooziness overtook him at the instant of contact. The sensation felt vaguely familiar but for the life of him he couldn't place it. Kasuka watched his grip loosening, but then his vision blurred and the clattering of the spoon melded into a cold silence.

* * *

><p>Izaya tsked at the monitor as Kasuka fell to his side ungracefully, the fifth time in an ongoing chain of suicide and self-mutilating attempts. The brunet seemed to be getting more and more desperate. Today he'd stared at the newly installed shower before punching the glass forcefully and lifting a shard to his neck. Izaya expected to be exasperated at his unwavering dedication, but instead he found himself impressed. Izaya had known of Kasuka's bullheaded tenacity before the kidnapping. Rumor had it that Kasuka was able to stay silent for twenty hours with a stalker on the other side of the phone, who then, thoroughly unnerved, confessed to the police.<p>

Izaya sighed and got up from his chair, making his way towards the other room, a medical kit in one hand and keys in another. Kasuka's hand would have to be bandaged, Izaya also took note of the sound of a fractured bone then. Once inside the cramped cell Izaya knelt down, propping the other man up and dressing his wound before laying him carefully in bed.

Kasuka was aiming for atonement through death. Unfortunately Izaya would save him each and every time with Namie's special valium concoction. In fact he had a custom made 'easy' button on his desk just for this task, a push of which would cause the valium to speed through air ducts in Kasuka's room. A weaker man in this situation would harm himself while relying on a the valium should he go too far, getting gratification by knowing he had the supposed bravery to commit suicide. Kasuka completely disregarded the valium. Izaya applauded him.

The informant hummed once back in his room, satisfied, and checked the time. Still another six hours before his assistant would be in Shinjuku. Before then he could call up Shiki and ask for any jobs, though if he were to be honest with himself nothing would capture his interest now. Kasuka was captivating. Watching his story unfold was as predictable as dominoes and more beautiful because of it. This was Izaya's theatre, where he was simultaneously audience and playwright, where Kasuka was the best actor and he didn't even know it.

And taking care of Kasuka was exactly how Izaya imagined taking care of a baby was like. Kasuka was interesting and Izaya had begun to develop some fondness for him, even finding certain expressions cute. The informant liked his analogy and texted it to Namie for lack of anything better to do.

[Taking care of Kasuka-chan is like taking care of a mute and suicidal baby! Fun!]

[Don't you have anything better to do?]

[Alas, I'm afraid I don't. And I quite like being Kasuka's mother. He's a good boy, yes he is.]

[Izaya, you don't have a single maternal bone in your body. Also, I don't even.]

His cellphone vibrated once more but Izaya paused. Someone was screaming his name in a distinctly familiar fashion, and then fast, tight stomps from the hallway followed. He stood up and smiled, snapping his cellphone shut and dropping it into his pocket. Without warning the door unhinged itself with a tremendous _snap_ and Shizuo strode into the room to slam Izaya back onto the window.

Sunlight hit his hair, creating a lustrous gleam, while the angles of his face sharpened in shadow. The blond resembled a lion readying for the kill. His trademark blue sunglasses had been folded into his shirt and his eyes were nearly bulging, not a hint of mirth in his features. Izaya stared back. Usually when dealing with 'the flea' Shizuo was all too happy to resort to violence. This restrained expression did not suit the blond well.

"Cut me the theatrics today, Izaya," Shizuo said in a low, controlled voice. "I'm not in the mood to play any games. Tell me now. Where," he punctuated this word with a tightening of his hand, "is Kasuka?"

In the space of a few seconds Izaya interpreted his words, tone, and facial expression and reworked his strategy accordingly. Shizuo was not kidding. The informant lounged back against the window and smiled playfully. Shizuo might not share the sentiment but then again, he never saw the inherent humor in any situation.

"You know everything comes with a price, Shizu-chan. Are you willing to pay?" he drawled. In the corner of his eye he saw Shizuo's right hand clench into a fist.

"Yeah, yeah, I know you're fucking gay."

Izaya started. "Wait – "

The blond actually had the nerve to roll his eyes. "Shinra told me about your failed attempts on him in middle school. Hell, I always suspected it. What with that girly walk and fur fetish."

Izaya narrowed his eyes. He wasn't nearly sensitive enough to be offended, but he was surprised at Shizuo's foresight, and decided to goad him on.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

Shizuo barked out a laugh. Izaya almost jumped at the harsh, sardonic undertones. He stared at the man with widened eyes.

"God," he muttered at such a low volume it was almost as if he was talking to himself. "God forbid you ever do anything out of compassion. You're an asshole through and through, aren't you."

Izaya bit his cheek but he couldn't help it. He gave up and laughed outright in Shizuo's face. "You're acting like this is something new."

Shizuo jerked his head up and spat, "You really just get off on other people's misery. If your sisters were in Kasuka's situation I'd put aside our differences and try to help. Not you. You disappoint me."

Something about this situation made Izaya feel distinctly uncomfortable. He'd heard the same spiels hundreds of times from different customers but for some reason the words almost hurt. Almost being the key word.

"I'm not a saint." Izaya shrugged. He didn't need to justify his actions to anyone, especially not Shizuo. Izaya let his brows narrow and played with a smile. "Back to the point."

The blond smiled with his teeth bared. Izaya's back was starting to get uncomfortably warm from being pressed on the window. "You know that I know what you really want. Okay. You just want me to say it, you fucker."

The tension hung between them like a taut thread as Shizuo leaned closer, smile still set on his face. His breath ghosted Izaya's lips as he murmured, "You want my body. I've seen you staring at me when you shouldn't be. I know why you're so damn obsessed with me, I've always known."

Izaya didn't move even as Shizuo kissed him, lightly. His lips were warm like the rest of him and just as electric as he'd imagined. Izaya smelled mint aftershave and parted open his lips hungrily, but before he could deepen the kiss Shizuo stood up. Izaya looked at him with a near pout.

Shizuo's eyes darkened as he reached down to unzip Izaya's jeans. It was silent and stifling and Izaya had no idea where to go from now. He tried a laugh. "Pretty eager, aren't you." It sounded more like a question and his voice tapered off uncharacteristically. The atmosphere felt strange and Izaya shifted, waiting for Shizuo's next move. His shirt rode up but he paid it no mind.

Shizuo raised his chin, and Izaya glimpsed a startlingly feral expression before his head was shoved down, wrists pinned against the window as a tongue leisurely swiped around the silver stud in his left ear.

"You want it? I'll fucking give it to you," Shizuo whispered, a little viciously, and Izaya felt a pleasant coil in his stomach at these words, bright and warm. His earlobe was flicked to one side, lathed in saliva, then Shizuo nipped downwards, trailing onto his neck and then his collarbone, peppering the line with small sucks full of teeth. The blond was brash but not violent, yet, with his attentions and Izaya struggled to free his hands so he could take off his shirt. But his wrists were locked in place and Izaya could not break the hold.

He went limp instead, surrendering himself and looked through half lidded eyes at Shizuo. There was nothing wrong with giving up dominance for a little bit, after all, he held all the cards. Everything was hot and swimmy and Izaya wanted to sink into the feeling. Shizuo's mouth worked its way down his abdomen, which was suddenly bare, his shirt pooling all the way up to his neck. Dark brown was showing through Shizuo's roots and Izaya opened his mouth to mention it, but then his wrists were let free. Blood rushed back and his hands tingled as he lowered them to grasp Shizuo's hair, meaning to pull him up. Shizuo sat up before he could and unbuttoned his own clothes carelessly, strewing them on the floor.

His body was perfect, just as Izaya knew it would be, and Izaya felt a rush of possessiveness upon seeing a single scar mar his abdomen. In the sun he looked ethereal, a Greek god come to earth. Each muscle curved into one another into a sinuous landscape of tanned skin. His nipples were a dusky, not quite virginal pink, soft and gleaming and begging to be touched. But strangely Izaya found himself focusing on his shoulders, so broad and assertive. Shizuo was truly a fine male specimen and Izaya suddenly knew that all along this was what he had really wanted from kidnapping Kasuka.

Before he could reflect upon this new realization, Shizuo bent down and took off his jeans, large hands running over the underside of his thighs and back again, stopping to knead his ass. The blond's servile manner pleased Izaya greatly and he stopped trying to reciprocate, letting Shizuo do all the work instead. The massage continued, time turning sluggish and mellow, then his surroundings were knocked into cold clarity when a sudden pressure came on his dick.

"Hnng…" Shizuo palmed his erection through his boxers, ochre eyes boring into his as he continued to lightly rub the head. The feeling was fantastic, then the cloth shifted, giving even more heated friction, and his half-hard cock sprung to life.

Only now did he realize that the blond seemed rather grim, eyes dark with unreadable intent. Neither of them had talked once this entire time and the uneasy atmosphere returned. Izaya made to move but Shizuo firmly held him in place with his stare.

A prickle of uncertainty washed through him, then left as soon as it came. The blond had begun mouthing Izaya through the fabric.

"Shizu-chan!" he gasped and then sighed breathily. Izaya tried to squirm unsuccessfully out of his boxers but Shizuo thankfully pulled them off. Already precum was leaking out and Izaya bucked his pelvis forth, but Shizuo ignored the action, instead reaching over and pressing his firm body against him. Izaya gladly leaned into the almost bruising kiss that followed, both lips parting. The blond's tongue was marvelous, alternately swiping along the front of his gums and then onto his sensitive palette. Izaya pushed back harder, bringing their bare torsos together and shivering at the sensation and warmth.

He was drowning in a pool of sunlight, and Shizuo was pulling him under. His entire body was warm, a toe-curling buzz that made him feel drunk and giddy. He was caressed and licked and sucked, then the warmth disappeared and Izaya moaned in protest. A callused hand worked its way down his back and then pain suddenly blossomed from his backside.

Izaya froze. It was so unexpected and so sudden he hardly believed it. "What – Shizuo, what are you doing?" He stretched himself out often so it didn't hurt as much as it could have, but it still hurt. His mind cleared and Izaya made to sit up but Shizuo still didn't take his finger out. "Take it out. At least tell me next time, or use – ah, stop it!"

The blond had added yet another finger. Izaya forcibly removed himself by standing up but Shizuo pulled him down with ease, and it was at that moment in which Izaya felt the first real pangs of anxiety.

"Hey, Shizuo, the door's still open."

But from the doorway, Izaya knew, they would be hidden by the sofa. An onlooker would see nothing. Not to mention that no one actually lived in the hallway – Izaya had bought out the four other flats for the express purpose of privacy. He would've never guessed such a situation to arise. Now he bit his cheek and mentally berated his lack of foresight.

Shizuo looked unconvinced.

"I have cameras in here." Still his expression remained unchanged. Izaya gasped theatrically, though inside his stomach was twisting. "I bet Namie-chan's watching this right now from her home." He giggled – it was not too hard to force. Whenever he was nervous he tended to be a little hysterical. "Oi, Namie-chan! Does this turn you on? Probably not, you're probably thinking about what a fortune you could make, the arch rivals of 'bukuro getting it on." Of course Namie was driving right now, far away from Ikebukuro and certainly of no use here.

The room darkened a little and Izaya's giggled died away hesitantly. He would have been aware of a flash of blue light from behind just then, had his heart not been pounding, and his skin so clammy. Then, without warning, Shizuo forced him on his back and held his legs up with one hand while the other skimmed along Izaya's ass cleft and pushed two fingers in. Izaya sucked in breath through his teeth and winced as the fingers made their way through the first knuckle. "Stop! Shizuo, stop it, stop it!" It wasn't pain necessarily that made his voice desperate however, it was foreknowledge of what was to come. Shizuo had unbuttoned his dress slacks and Izaya watched with trepidation as he pushed them down, wincing once again when he caught a glimpse of an enormous cock, its girth roughly the size of his fist and much longer. Only minutes ago it would have made Izaya salivate with anticipation. Now his eyes squeezed shut as more fingernails scraped roughly against his entrance and Izaya knew with certainty what was going to happen next.

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><p>AN #2: About the long wait. I feel inconceivable amounts of regret. I know all to well how it feels too have a story on your alert list and have nothing turn up for months with no explanation. Academics have gotten into the way and though I will not make any more promises about updating, I am writing regularly nowadays (!)

As always I would love to hear your thoughts and if you want to visualize the last scene, please view the beautiful 24 (DOT) media (DOT) tumblr (DOT) com/tumblr_lom0gmk74p1qc1ofso1_500 (DOT) jpg.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Thank you **Dextris** and **Misstress Murder **so much for reviewing! :D Warning: Chapter may have potential triggers as referenced to in the summary.

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><p>Fear enveloped Izaya and left him in total disarray. Shizuo's hands had bruised his slender wrists before and now they bloomed a deep purple. Izaya did not notice, much more preoccupied with his lower half at the moment. There was no way his body could house an object of that size without due preparation and liberal amounts of lubricant. Involuntarily he kept clenching his ring muscles, yet Shizuo's cuticles would then dig into his tightening flesh and cut it each time. Another finger. Izaya could handle only the first knuckle yet Shizuo refused to withdraw, resulting in deeply felt lacerations on his inner walls. Roughly the blond drew his fingers out, now lightly sheathed in blood that would dry to brittle brown. Izaya exhaled but his relief ceased immediately when he realized that Shizuo was about to enter him. With one swift movement Shizuo plunged in, both men wincing as only the head entered successfully. Anatomically Izaya was still too petit and could not accommodate the other's cock.<p>

"Sorry, Shizu-chan, looks like you'll still have to prepare me after all." Yet Shizuo was indifferent to these words, instead pulling himself out and reaching with his fingers once again to Izaya's battered backside. As Izaya had predicted the blood had dried quickly and now he could feel the individual ridges of Shizuo's fingers and their calluses. He jerked as they slipped further in. More blood. This time Shizuo parted the fingers. At first it was merely uncomfortable but soon Izaya was whimpering in pain. He had the sensation of actual scissors being inserted inside him and their blades sharpening, edging next to and breaking his barriers. The clarity of this pain was intolerable. His entire perineum was now damp with blood and his former erection had subsided completely.

Three fingers and then a fourth. At least he had never bought Shizuo any rings, Izaya thought indistinctly. Yet he could not smile at his own joke. Instead he forced himself to relax, bringing to his mind calming images. Ironically within these images was one of him and Shizuo at an amusement park, on a date with twin sticks of cotton candy. Dimly Izaya registered surprise and switched the image to one of his sisters. The two walking home after school, Mairu giggling and flipping her braid, Kururi's lips in a soft smile. Yet that too had to be stopped. He did not want to end up associating his sisters with this pain, unconsciously or not, once the ordeal was through.

Again these long fingers were brought out, again they entered him, now runny with fresh blood and pumping back and forth more easily. His ass would still contract at times but now it remained mostly loose. The room smelled overwhelmingly like a car parts store – musk and metal, making Izaya feel nauseous. He breathed deliberately, careful to breathe through his mouth and with his shoulders rising. When he breathed from his stomach his lower body would tighten and the pain drastically increase. The fingers seemed smoother and entered deeper now. Izaya knew, rather than felt that Shizuo had just entered his entire palm. The pain stayed steady, then Shizuo's hand probed deeper and rotated slightly, a single finger flicking upwards.

Izaya moaned in intense and sudden pleasure, bucking his hips forward to recapture the specific angle of contact. He opened his eyes to see Shizuo smirk cruelly.

"Won't happen again." He took his hand out completely and now Izaya saw that the blond's cock had stayed rigid the entire time, its head engorged and leaking liberally. Shizuo's slightly curly pubic hair shone with precum. Now Shizuo lowered himself onto Izaya, who immediately clenched his inner ring. He counted his breaths to fight against the reflex as Shizuo entered him harshly, expanding his inner walls an incredible amount in the process. Izaya broke off counting and began gasping unevenly as Shizuo filled him to the hilt. Agony overwhelmed him and he felt his knees crumple, but Shizuo held them up, then withdrew his hips to slam into Izaya's small body. The brunet's eyes dilated and he thought he screamed. Yet he could not hear anything over his throbbing temples, pulsating in time with Shizuo's rough rhythm. Blood had rushed loudly to his head to overtake the near silence in the room.

Everything hurt. It felt as though not only his ass had been speared open, but his stomach, his hips, even his bones. Shizuo pounded into him mercilessly, eyes lidded in pleasure as he did so, while Izaya found his lips forming shaky words each time.

"I…S-stop... Sh-shizuo…" He could not manage much more than that. Yet Izaya's pleas only spurred the blond on, who groaned and noticeably increased his pace. At first each thrust amplified the pain but after a long period of time a threshold was met and the pain remained constant.

"Stop…" Only now did Izaya notice how cold the floor was, cold and unyielding against his back, which was continuously being knocked onto the floor. The cold seemed to seep through his skin and numb the pain.

Gradually the nature of the act seemed to shift. His ass no longer felt torn apart, instead the sensation of being filled became neutral, and then pleasant. Shizuo's thrusts were becoming more erratic, yet now Izaya weakly bucked his pelvis forth to meet them, and reached a hand down to grip his hardening cock. Shizuo stopped him first, encircling his wrist and looking down at him with an expressionless face. Izaya returned his stare with relaxed eyes and gently attempted to maneuver his hand downwards. Shizuo twisted it sideways. Izaya stilled as he felt ligament stretch.

"Stop."

Shizuo thrust one more time and withdrew, semen dripping from his cock and from Izaya's ass. It took Izaya a long beat to realize that Shizuo had moved away, and another to realize that the utterance had not come from his mouth.

Kida stood at the entrance of the doorway, videocamera in hand. For once his face was serious. He walked in a few paces, scarf fluttering behind him. Izaya was frozen, hand limp by his side even as Shizuo retracted in small movements away from Izaya.

Now that Kida was closer, the fluorescent lights of the hallway no longer illuminated his silhouette. Here he looked much frailer than before, and Izaya's eyes landed on the side of his sweatshirt. Blood fanned out and spread through the cotton, sticking to his abdomen. As Kida stopped, his head jerked downward and he coughed wetly. Randomly it occurred to Izaya what a bizarre tableau this would make: a teenager ceasing the rape of a man twice his age, blood everywhere and its sharp astringent smell.

Izaya returned his attention to Shizuo, now opposite from him. His hands had curled into fists and he was staring at Kida with impatient eyes. Kida finally looked up, wiping the blood away from his mouth with his sleeve.

"Saki," he said in a scratchy voice.

Immediately Izaya's mind cleared somewhat, his disjointed thoughts organizing themselves in a coherent manner, as demanded by this urgent turn of events. It was imperative to give the impression that he knew the particulars of what exactly had happened to Kida's lover. More important was to maintain his grand scheme for Project Kasuka by dredging up enough mental strength to assess the overarching situation and how to manipulate it.

"The camera," Izaya stated. There was still the slightest tremor in his voice, and he didn't try to will it away. Both blonds had now seen him in one of the most vulnerable and powerless positions a human being could ever be in. Presently there was no use in keeping up the previous informant façade.

Kida nodded imperceptibly, then gave Shizuo a near apologetic glance. He tossed the camera over to Izaya in a single motion, Izaya lifted a hand to catch it but failed, his wrist snapping at an awkward angle. The camera dropped harmlessly on the sofa and Izaya picked it up, fingers quivering. His ass and wrist throbbed feverishly with pain. Kida had recorded his assault starting ten minutes ago. Just at the beginning.

"Ten years of jail right here," Izaya said shakily, then pushed himself to standing position. He laughed, it was slightly high-pitched. "Shizu-chan," he added as he limped towards the kitchen, returning with a soiled towel that he tossed into the trash. His wrist had been bandaged and was now resting on his shoulder along with an ice pack. The brunet carefully walked towards his desk, pushed away his swivel chair and opened up several windows on his monitor. Izaya's fingers stuttered across the keyboard and he paused to delete all that he had just typed, to begin again. Shizuo watched from his position on the floor as Izaya stared at the screen, then speed dialed someone from his cellphone.

"Mikado." He emphasized the name but did not look beyond his computer screen. Kida's gaze intensified. "How is Dollars doing? Ah, this is not the best time to ask, is it?" Izaya cradled the phone with his shoulder and moved his mouse at an increasingly quicker pace. "After all you are currently witnessing your own members' brutal treatment of the Yellow Scarves. Saki included as usual. These are some very innovative ways to use a pen, Mikado."

Pause. "Your willingness to impress Aoba impresses me." Izaya withdrew his hand from the mouse and turned around to face the window. "You can't stop it? Hahaha!" Izaya's shoulders shook with laughter then abruptly stilled. "That's a weak excuse, with Saika on your side. Try again. No, let me guess. This all ties in with Kida-kun, doesn't it?" Izaya walked around the table, deliberately catching Kida's eyes as he did so. They were narrowed in fury as anticipated. "Stop it now, Mikado. Or I will crush your little underground movement with just a word. I have the database in my hands and the contact information of half a million members. Two leaders of Dollars? They will never believe you to be the real one. And your single weapon will be gone.

So let go of Saki. Now." Izaya moved his gaze to the computer screen. "Good job, Mikado. Bye now." Izaya closed his phone and all humor died from his face.

"Please stop dripping blood all over the place, Kida, it ruins the aesthetic. Bandage yourself. And there's some liquor in the second cupboard if you need it."

Kida retreated to the kitchen just as Shizuo began to speak. "Just tell me the truth, Izaya."

His tone was weary and Izaya hesitated before looking up. Most of his ire seemed to have dissipated, replaced by a somber and mostly tired look. The blond was no longer erect. Except for minor traces of blood and ejaculate that still caked his hand and lower body, no sign at all remained of the ordeal Izaya had just undergone. No physical manifestation of the devastating pain in his body and psyche.

Suddenly Izaya was struck by a momentary sense of unreality. It seemed as though the past had been only a distant nightmare, and that the future too had vanished, closing off all escape routes from the present. Izaya could make out the blurred outline of Shizuo staring at him, and discreetly he curled his nails into his palm to ground himself. The feeling passed, leaving Izaya drained and noticeably pale.

"Alright." Izaya fixed his gaze on Shizuo. It was hard, now, to maintain a semblance of composure, but he brought his ultimate plan to the forefront of his mind and ignored the persistent pain from his backside. "Since you insist. You want to know where precious ototo is? He's with me - I'm keeping Kasuka away from the police right now."

Shizuo's knuckles grew white. "I told you to tell me the truth," he said quietly.

Izaya shook his head. This was the critical juncture of the entire lie, and he had to pull this off with the greatest nonchalance. Act sincere and somber and Shizuo would be tipped off immediately. He pulled his face into a smile, "It's true. What you saw on the news."

Shizuo snarled. "Stop fucking around! Just tell me what actually happened."

Izaya tutted, twirling his finger around. The gesture was intimate and he derived some comfort from it. "Ah, but of course the brother wishes to deny the truth! I will clarify for you then: his whereabouts are known, by at least one person: me. And as for what you have been hearing about, there is overwhelming evidence that he has murdered a young prostitute by the name of Kiki."

Shizuo lunged at Izaya and grabbed the base of his neck. But before he could do anything more, the temporarily forgotten Kida stepped in and placed a hand on Shizuo's shoulder.

Shizuo turned around in rage. "What the fuck? Kid, why are you supporting Izaya? Can't you see what a manipulative piece of bullshit he is?"

Kida's face was downturned so Izaya could not catch his expression as he said, "Sorry, but Izaya never lies. Manipulative yes, but he doesn't lie." He tightened his grasp on Shizuo's shoulder. "And - and I owe him now."

Shizuo growled and with visible restraint removed his hand. He directed his next words to Izaya. "I don't believe that. Kasuka wouldn't harm a flea. He's never gotten angry before. And I can't imagine that that would somehow change."

Izaya lightly rubbed his neck as he spoke, bending over to pick up the fallen ice pack. "Ah, I knew you would say that. But I have proof."

Shizuo shook his head. "I can't trust that you didn't make it up."

Izaya took his hand off and took a step closer to Shizuo. "Care to elaborate?"

Shizuo snorted. "You probably tampered with his old movies, fiddling around with his lines and whatnot to make it sound like he said something when he meant something else."

"What if I gave you the chance to talk to Kasuka? The real thing?"

Shizuo stared. "What?"

"You heard me right," Izaya said lightheartedly. He walked towards the window, maneuvering about a puddle of Kida's blood as he did so.

Let Shizuo stew in silence now. The smile had dropped from Izaya's face and he took a few invisible breaths. He stepped closer to the window so that his reflection would not be too visible to Shizuo. He needed a break from his blithe demeanor. Quietly he looked out over the cityscape beyond.

Sun was setting, the sky blazing red and refracting upon the surfaces of buildings, cars, and lampposts. A few trees were visible, scattered green dots between an otherwise glittering city. Today Izaya could not feel his love for humanity as he gazed lower, on the many pedestrians underneath. Something crucial had shifted within him and he felt none of his usual curiosity to investigate further. He thought he already knew the source behind his changed attitude towards humans, and the cause was something he wished to push far away from his mind. He heard a door shut, Kida had left.

"Izaya – " the tone was edgy.

Izaya spun around. All traces of mirth were gone. "I will reiterate this one more time and make it painfully clear. Kasuka killed Kiki and currently he is being protected by me, from the police, who will surely shackle him at sight. There are tens of millions of devoted fans who are storming about worldwide, trying to stop this, but they're not going to get anywhere. Why? Because he is a murderer. And I have seen undeniable proof." Laughter genuinely bubbled up as he took in Shizuo's shocked expression. He stepped closer and removed the ice pack to the table, to clasp his still trembling hands together behind his back.

"Thought I was lying? Didn't you notice? Considering Kasuka's extreme celebrity status, wouldn't the police draw some of his sentence away? No. Even his publicist is silent. He's a wanted criminal. Our national site even lists a 5 million yen reward for him. Granted, they're not putting that on any top news sites, that would be too controversial."

Shizuo fell silent. He sat down on the couch and took out a cigarette, but did not light it. Izaya noticed that his fingers, too, wobbled lightly.

"I still think this is all some fucked up prank." Yet his shaky tone belied his words.

The room was illuminated in scarlet light. Every few minutes the light would disappear and Shizuo's face would darken even more. Finally Shizuo's lips opened and Izaya knew exactly what they were about to say.

"Then I want to talk with him."

Izaya swallowed down a bitter laugh. Everything had gone the way he had scripted it out in his head. Except now he felt none of the expected victory as he heard these words. The shock of how Shizuo had turned the tables on him had now dissipated, leaving in its wake an unfamiliar emotion which he had thought was for mere mortals. Sorrow. Abruptly he walked to the kitchen and placed his elbows on the counter, taking in a deep shuddering breath.

"Shizuo? Get out."


End file.
